


The living game

by MyStorybookEnding



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Action & Romance, Episode Related, Eventual Smut, F/M, The Killing Game, episode add on
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:01:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22598230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyStorybookEnding/pseuds/MyStorybookEnding
Summary: Tilting her head downwards Kathryn met her first officer's eyes. He was too far away to make out the finer features of his strong face but there was no doubt that she was no longer locking into the polite, agreeable and gentlemanly eyes of Captain Miller who knew her little enough to accept anything at face value. Chakotay's dark brown stare held an all to familiar mix of well tempered irritation, caution and dread, pleading with her not to go of and do something reckless. He knew her too well.
Relationships: Chakotay/Kathryn Janeway
Comments: 17
Kudos: 90





	The living game

**Author's Note:**

> Since that episode stuck with me, and I felt there could be so much more to it my mind took an extra round with it. Basically I couldn't help myself. 
> 
> I am writing this in my own little world, for my own sake to take my mind of other things, and English is not my first language so please be kind and take this for what it is. I am not aspiring to anything else.  
> All mistakes are mine.

_Even through the distinct sounds of struggle and antique guns firing in the distance there was no mistaking the dull thud of bone cracking against the cobblestone below and Kathryn surged forward, ignoring the instant shot of pain up her leg in search for confirmation._

_Sure enough, three decks down lay the former hirogen leader sprawled at an awkward angle, dead eyes looking up into the dark skies, the heavy rain already painting the holographic pavement with very real tendrils of stark red, flowing down the street. So they did bleed red after all, for some reason she had expected toxic green._

_She had barely time to register the relief slamming into her chest at the sight before the air around her seemed to flicker and shift, all the uniform-clad holographic characters and their guns shimmering out of existence in a blink of an eye along with the rifle in her hand._

_The fighting stopped, the world went strangely quiet and in the dusk Kathryn could now make out the large frame of her first officer down below, flanked by most of her senior staff in various forms of period costumes and she drew a deep breath at the welcomed sight before she checked herself, set her jaw and squared her shoulders._

_Her ship was still littered with hirogen hunters wholly invested in their sick ritual and although their leader lay dead by her hand there was do doubt in her mind that somebody would soon fill his shoes. Somebody who would rather skin her people alive than negotiating with a lower species. Her mind, since long high wired to jump at the next possible disaster, and the next possible tactical advantage, went into overdrive._  
_What now?_

*

Straightening up Chakotay blinked, his heartbeat loud in his ears and breath ragged as he assessed the situation. His opponent, who had just seconds ago been doing a fine job of trying to smash his head in with the butt end of an rifle had just vanished before his eyes and he wasn't quite sure it would be wise to believe what he saw. Since his neural transmitter had failed and jolted him back to reality with a sharp sting he had been struggling to grasp reality- such as it was.

The narrow streets and allies appeared eerily deserted compared to the chaos just moments before but they weren't completely alone. At the corner of his eye he caught a lean, dark clad figure staring down at them from three stories up, silhouetted by the faint light coming from the corridors beyond the breeched hologrid and he took a step closer. He knew that posture anywhere, certain who it was even before the figure shifted in his direction and the light caught her face.

Thank the spirits. When they had once more found themselves under enemy fire the thought of what might have happened to Voyager's commanding officer who had just negotiated peace had been sitting like a cold, hard stone in his gut- despite the fact that he had his hands full trying to command his men, real and holographic.

The exchange lasted mere seconds but in the sudden silence it seemed to stretch on far longer. The angry set of his Captain's jaw told him all he needed to know. She was furious and ready to throw every single one of their intruders out an airlock singlehandedly. Never mind if it cost her a limb or two.

Even from such a distance it seemed as if she was looking right at him and he shook his head ever so slightly. A warning. A plea. He wasn't quite sure which.

Tilting her head downwards Kathryn met her first officer's eyes. He was too far away to make out the finer features of his strong face but there was no doubt that she was no longer locking into the polite, agreeable and gentlemanly eyes of Captain Miller who knew her little enough to accept anything at face value. Chakotay's dark brown stare held an all to familiar mix of well tempered irritation, caution and dread, pleading with her not to go of and do something reckless. He knew her too well.

Raising her chin in trademark defiance – against him, the hirogen or the universe at large she didn't know- but she made her decision and and turned on her heals. Chakotay would do everything to keep their people safe. He had the help of her most trusted officers and a good head on his shoulders. She would do her best to give them a fair chance.

*

Swearing under his breath, Chakotay wiped his brow hastily before he continued on through the cramped space, silently damning Tuvok and his pain in the ass vulcan logic for proclaiming that the safest way to get to the bridge from the holodeck was crawling up three decks through very hot and very unforgiving Jefferies tubes.

Tuvok had been right of course, despite it's drawbacks. Unarmed and without any way of knowing if they were heading right into a group of hirogen hunters at the next bend it had been their best option. The fact that they hadn't spotted one single hirogen as they had to cross corridors to switch tubes worried him more than it reassured him. If the hirogen weren't here- ready to continue the chase- it must mean that they were somewhere regrouping. Preparing to squash the rebellion once and for all. Hell, as far as he knew this could just as easily be considered a pleasant surprise for them- a pray that fought back, however fruitlessly, and prolonged the pleasure of the chase. Some variation, an Alpha quadrant novelty they hadn't already hunted to boredom.

The thought made his blood boil in an unpleasant familiar way and he had to check himself.

Listening to the others shuffling behind him, B'Elanna swearing repeatedly in klingon over her dress, he worked to find a comfortable rhythm and breathing to match the repetitive movements of arms and legs on the unforgiving grid floor. 

He had aches and pains in places he had no memory of being injured. His body felt sluggish, like lead, a sensation he remembered well from his days in the Maquis. Too little sleep, not enough nourishment and too much abuse to an already tired body. The problem was that unlike in the Maquis he only had a hazy idea as to the reasons why.

The last thing he remembered before finding himself on the holodeck was standing on the bridge, klaxon blaring, phaser fire flying over his head as they fought tooth and nail to keep the hirogen from taking control of the bridge. It had been like trying to stop a swarm of locus with a flyswatter.   
He had fought as best he could, watching Kathryn being lifted in the air and effortlessly hurled across the room, hitting the far wall with a sickening sound. He remembered thinking that it was all over just before a phaser blast had hit him square in the chest and everything had gone mercifully blank.

Spirits knew what they had all been put through since then. 

There it was again, that fizzle of red hot anger. But he quelled it, concentrating on organizing his thoughts into an efficient, linear list off tasks. 

Taking back control of the bridge seemed to be the most constructive way forward, one he was sure his Captain would approve of- if she had been there to give her orders. In the best of worlds, overloading the holoemitteres had bought them just enough time to get the upper hand. Securing the bridge meant having communications and internal sensors back online- a way to communicate and coordinate their efforts. 

They had managed to secure a few weapons along the way. One large plasma rifle had been pilfers of a dead hirogen they had run across on deck four just outside of transporter room two and it now hung heavily across Chakotay's back. In the transporter room itself they had located what they had hoped the hirogen had overlooked in favor of their hunt - a locked box containing three phasers for emergency situations.   
Whether that would be enough to hold their ground was anyones guess. But as Tom Paris had put it earlier; they were up shit creek without a paddle so they might as well swim.

“If I am not mistaken, the access hatch to the bridge is around that corner, three steps up.” Tuvok stated lowly without the faintest trace of fatigue in his voice.

There was no doubt in Chakotay's mind that Tuvok had the entire blueprint of Voyager memorized along with the corresponding maintenance identification number for each tunnel and right now he was grateful for it.

Turing around as best as he could in the small space without getting himself wedged in by the heavy rifle across his shoulders he took a moment to look at what would possibly be Voyagers last good chance at turning the tables. 

Tuvok looked back at him with his usual detached, unwavering stare, seemingly completely unmoved by the possibly disastrous outcome of this endeavor, which may very well be the case. Tuvok had an ability to put himself and his own personal cost outside of the situation rivaled only by Seven, who right now wore very much the same expression- only her raised brow gave her an air of childlike defiance that would have looked decidedly comical on Tuvok.

B'Elanna was another story altogether, her disheveled appearance and wrinkled ,now oversize, dress a testament to the last hour's struggle through the bowls of the ship- but she seemed none the less ready for a fight.   
Her mouth was set in grim determination, her dark eyes hard and focused as she gripped her phaser- as so many times before drawing the strength and courage needed from her angry streak. That was fine by Chakotay as long as she held it in check and kept a level head, but that was something he worried less and less about these days. The person who had been most influential in accomplishing that was the last person his eyes landed on in the narrow tunnel- Tom Paris. The only man left without a means to defend himself.

Part of Chakotay almost couldn't contain himself from pressing his own rifle into the man's hands but he knew Tom would never accept a weapon if it mean leaving somebody else unarmed. He could try and make it an order- but it would make no difference. 

“Paris...” Chakotay said in a low voice as he took the rifle of his back and checked it to make sure it was ready “...you bring up the rear. ” 

At least that way he had a chance to keep the young lieutenant out of the line of fire. “And get your hands on a phaser.”

“Yes Sir.” Tom answered with a short nod, meeting his commander's eye evenly and calmly.

Chakotay gave them all one last look, securing the rifle against his shoulder as the others checked their own weapons.

“Okay people. The only thing we have going for us is the element of surprise. Let's make it fast and let's make it clean.”

  
*

“Shit!” Kathryn hissed as her raw fingertips slipped on the tiny piece of metal, pausing momentarily to flex her hands, trying to get her numb fingers to obey her as she worked to open the panel. She had precious little time before the tell tale sounds of heavy boots heralded the return of the hirogen patrolling the corridor outside the armory and the frustration and stress was getting to her.

If she could just get inside the panel she would be able to bypass the relay and manually override the code-lock, putting the treasure chest of weapons in Voyager's hands once more. At least in theory. Reality was far more complicated. 

Without a toolkit the small screws were sharp and slippery, making her fingers ache with the effort of trying to unscrew them with only her hands and a hair-clip at her disposal. She guessed she should call herself lucky that her latest costume came with a stylish hairdo. Right now that was just about the only thing she had going for her.

Every five minutes she had to hastily sweep up the few screws she had manged to get off and make sure the panel looked untouched before she dived back into her hiding place behind an access hatch three feet away, waiting for the bulky, well armed hirogen to make his rounds.

It took much more time than she had anticipated, time she didn't have. She had put her body through hell enough times to recognizance the signs; the cold tremors running through her body, the difficulty to focus, they way her leg pulsed with each movement. The gunshot wound was getting infected, in no time the chills would be replaced by fever and it would all go downhill from there.

Before starting her slow and agonizing trek down the decks towards the armory she had done her best to tend to the injury, taking the belt from around her waist and winding it tightly several rounds across the wound. It stopped the bleeding and numbed the pain somewhat but she had been shot with a crude,old- fashioned weapon with a dirty bullet. A pressure bandage could only do so much.

Looking up at the distant sound of footsteps Kathryn quickly straightened the panel and put the small screws in her pocket, gingerly getting to her feet and limping over to the open hatch and slipping inside.

She was just about to close the hatch behind her when she caught a glimpse of bright yellow and black at the far end of the corridor, only then realizing her mistake. The hurried, light footsteps she had heard approaching came from the wrong direction and didn't match those of the much heavier built hirogen one bit.

Shit! Damn her sluggish, sleep deprived head for just plowing ahead on autopilot.

It was one of her own people, heading right into the arms of certain death approaching at the other end of the hall, because this time there was no mistaking the heavy boots marching her way. 

She had no choice.

Stifling a groan Kathryn threw herself halfway out the shelter and lunged into the startled crewman's path, manging to both grab an arm to pull at and clasp her free hand roughly over the man's mouth before he could make a sound.

Swiftly dragging them both back into the cramped tunnel and closing the hatch silently behind her it wasn't until she slumped back against the wall and let out a ragged breath that she realized the man staring back at her with wide eyed surprise was none other than Lieutenant Mike Ayala. 

She didn't socialize much with her crew these days but she knew the man well enough. He was one of the few people Chakotay occasionally joined for a drink in Sandrine's, a man her first officer trusted without reservation and so with time so had she. He was often put in charge of his on security detail, the one person Chakotay always asked she take with her if Tuvok wasn't able to accompany her. She had played pool with the man, listened to him telling stories of his two boys back home. The idea that he had been seconds away from being captured, tortured and skinned with his bones put on display in her ready room made her stomach turn.

Straightening up a little she pushed the nauseating thought aside and locked it in a box for later, making a motion for the man to stay quiet as they waited, listening for any sign that might indicate that they had been discovered.

Lieutenant Ayala sat still, staring straight ahead as he tried to catch his breath, his left arm clutched tightly to his body at an awkward angle. The rush of adrenaline made his ears sing. For a moment he had been sure that it was all over, before he recognized it was his Captain, however strangely dressed, pulling at him. 

Kathryn counted the seconds along with each breath, the tension leaving her body bit by bit as she came to the conclusion that the guard must have passed them by now and she shuffled forward a little, opening the hatch just enough to peer out into the corridor to make sure it was empty before she broke the silence.

“Are you alright Lieutenant?”

“Yes Captain” came the swift reply, Ayala instantly sitting up a little straighter as he fell under his Captain's scrutinizing gaze. “I have been confined to quarters since we were boarded. This morning I finally manged to wedge the door open with a metal railing I tore of my bed-frame. When all this is over I might request a new bed Ma'am.”

Kathryn couldn't help grinning at the ingenuity. Trust a former resistance fighter turned Starfleet not to stay where he was put for too long. 

“What happened to your arm?” 

“Oh...” Ayala rolled his eyes looking more than a little embarrassed as the Captain raised a brow in question. “I was so eager to get out that I sort of tripped on the piece of railing and slammed into the wall. I think I might have dislocated my shoulder. Not my finest moment Captain.”

“Don't worry, your secret is safe with me Lieutenant” Kathryn assured with a soft chuckle and shake of her head but instantly went still at the sound of a plasma rifle being fired in the distance. Just one single shot and then nothing. It was a good enough reminder of their circumstances.

For a moment they sat frozen, waiting until the need to see rather than just straining her ears to hear won out and Kathryn maneuvered herself out of their hiding place. Eyes fixed on the corridor for any disturbance she caught her good leg on the ledge and drew a sharp breath, trying not to tumble out on the floor. 

Forced to put all her weight on her right leg she faltered ever so slightly, grimacing as she supported herself with a hand against the wall. Seeing Ayala's eyes drawn to her makeshift bandage she immediately pulled her face into an impassive mask and let go of the wall, once again standing on her trembling leg as she scanned the corridor. 

Nothing. 

But somewhere not too far from here that rifle had hit it's mark and she prayed that it hadn't been one of her people taking the hit. She thought of the nameless bones hanging in fishing-nets from the ceiling of her ready room and clenched her jaw against the bile rising in her throat.

“Captain?” Ayala questioned in a hushed voice as he followed his commanding officer out on the deck. He did not presume to know his Captain as well as some of the senior staff did but he had eyes to see with and there was something in the lines of her face that didn't sit right.

Few things phased Voyagers most senior officer. In fact amongst the lower decks rumor had it that there was nothing in this great quadrant or any other that could move their Captain's steely resolve.  
Ayala knew differently. He had seen glimpses of it when catching the Captain and Chakotay leaning over a console or huddled away from the rest of them whispering. Thats how he knew their Captain feared for all of them, more hours during day and night than most on board would imagine. But this was different.

“Lieutenant.” Kathryn commanded in a low but razor sharp voice, instantly drawing the mans attention. “We don't have much time, they patrol the armory every five minutes. I have been hiding out trying to hijack the code-lock and give us access to our weapons again.”

Ayala nodded his understanding and she continued hurriedly. “The last time I saw any of the senior staff was about three hours ago on the holodeck. I can't say for sure where they are now but my best guess is that they have been working their way to the bridge. I need you to find Commander Chakotay and tell him what I am doing.”

She paused, making sure to hold the man's gaze to convey the importance of her next words. “If I manage to override the lock my order for the the Commander is to put all available resources into freeing the rest of the crew from their quarters and equip them with everything you can find in the armory. Drive these sadistic bastards of my ship.”

“Yes Captain.” Ayala replied, the answer falling from his lips automatically despite the doubt rising steadily within him. She was bleeding, straining to stand up right, face white as a sheet. She was dictating her orders too him because she didn't expect to be around to give them herself. 

The indecision must have shown in his face because the Captain's eyes narrowed, fixing him with a hard, demanding stare that tolerated no objections.

“Go!”

*

“Look out!”

Tuvok adhered to Tom's warning just in time, turning to see the large, imposing forms of two hirogen hunters stepping out of the turbolift towards him, weapons drawn.  
He hit one square in the chest with his phaser, something that seemed to have only marginal effect but Seven came to his aid, their combined efforts eventually bringing their two opponents to their knees.

“Lock down the bridge now! Make sure no one else comes through that turbo lift!” Chakotay barked as he narrowly avoided one muscular arm swinging for his head, opting to lunge for the larger male's midsection so they both lost their balance and tumbled into one of the science consoles instead, sparks flying everywhere.  
If the hirogen got wind of what was happening on the bridge and managed to send reinforcements they would soon be flooded with more hunters and they would lose what little advantage they had.

“I'm on it sir” Harry who had been held captive on the bridge since overloading the holoemitters called over the phaser fire, fingers flying across the console as he did his best to duck the crossfire. Things were spiraling out of hand all too fast, the straight line his crew-mates had formed as they had come out the jefferies tube breaking up into man to man combat.

The element of surprised had worked to their advantage but the hirogen seemed to have no problem taking a phaser blast or two, their heavy built and sturdy, latex looking uniforms able to absorb more of the impact than one might have hoped.

“Sometime today would be good!” Tom called, grunting painfully as he threw himself forward to grab for the rifle still clasped in the hands of the fallen hirogen at Tuvok's feet and hitting the deck with more force than intended.  
He did his best to roll with it though, sending of a volley with the slightly more efficient phaser rifle in the general direction of the upper floor where one hunter made a move for the lift.

Everything that happened after that was nothing but a blur. B'Elanna aimed for one hunter going after Harry but instead narrowly missing blowing of Chakotay's head as she was tackled from behind, the air smelling strongly of plasma fumes and burnt circuits.

Momentarily crushed under the heavy body B'Elanna was saved by one clean shot from Tuvok, the two remaining hirogen swiftly taken out by Seven and Chakotay before their rifles had a chance to find their targets.

It wasn't until the last hirogen sunk to the ground with a deafening thud in the otherwise silent room that Harry looked down and noticed the thin trail of crimson red running down his arm and across his fingers, smearing the panel before him red.

“I think I've been hit” he stated in disbelief, not quite comprehending what had happened despite the stinging pain jumping down his arm and he sat down on the deck, furrowing his brow. “I didn't even feel a thing.”

“Hang on Harry.” Tom was at his side even before Chakotay had given the order, discarding his rifle on the floor beside him as he knelt down, gently prodding Harry's bloodstained clothes in search for the wound. 

“Torres, Seven, I want everything back online. Scan the ship. Find out where the hirogen are hiding out. We don't want any surprises.” Chakotay ordered as he made his way across the upper deck, checking for a pulse on the fallen hirogen as he went before he knelt down next to Tom and Harry, raising an questioning brow. “How is he?”

“He took a hit to the shoulder Commander. It bleeds a bit but it's a flesh-wound. I need to put a pressure bandage on it though, until I can get a hold of a dermal regenerator.” Tom reported, the relief in his voice taking on a somewhat teasing note as he grinned at his friend. “Didn't they teach you to duck at the academy?”

“Must have been out sick that day.” Harry deadpanned and rolled his eyes, grimacing as Tom tore a piece of lining from his strange looking uniform and pressed it against the wound. He felt more  
embarrassed than anything. Here he had been, imagining himself the rugged hero in all of this, standing up against their captors and aiding his comrades, only to get himself shot as the cavalry- odd looking as it was- arrived.

Chakotay gave the two men a grin as he rose to his feet and patted a weary Harry on his uninjured shoulder, it could have been much worse. 

He had done his best to look out for everyone but he had instantly been recognized as the leader by their enemies and soon had more than his hands full.   
Everybody had preformed extraordinarily thought. Tuvok was sporting a split lip and the bruise forming on B'Elanna's chin would probably turn both purple and green before the doctor would ever get to it.  
He himself was nursing a throbbing headache after being shoved head first into the bulkhead. Still- they were all alive.

“Internal sensors are online Commander. However, due to the hirogen's decision to integrate holoemitters to every deck many of the sensors are damaged and malfunctioning” Seven reported with cold, crisp disapproval at the hirogen's clear incompetence in basic maintenance, raising her eyebrow in contempt. “What we have is cursory at best.”

“Well, it will have to do.” Chakotay stepped up to the science station, glancing at the monitor. “What have we got?”

“Sensors indicate three hirogen and two humanoids in engineering.”

That's just a skeleton crew, at best.” B'Elanna interjected, feeling her temper flaring at the thought of how her precious ship was neglected and shopped to pieces by their intruders. “Keeping the ship running smoothly certainly isn't their main priority.”

“Correct.” Seven stated, fingers expertly jumping between different screens. “Most of the hirogen seem to be concentrated to deck five, cargo-bay two. It would indicate that they coordinate their hunting efforts from there.”

“It was their former leader who wished to replace their traditional hunt with holographic alternatives. However most of the other hirogen seem reluctant to embrace that change.” Tuvok raised an eyebrow, nodding towards the map of Voyager on the screen before them. “Logic dictates that the remaining hunters are now reverting to their old ways. They have no interest in preserving this ship nor it's technology and will concentrate their efforts into getting a satisfactory hunt.” 

“I agree. They only had enough people here on the bridge to steer the ship.” Chakotay nodded, staring at the blue blinking dots, indicating a large number of alien life-signs in cargo bay two. When the hunt was over the hirogen intended to leave nothing but a ghost ship.“Where are our people at? We can't be sitting ducks, waiting for them to go track us down.”

“Preliminary scans suggest that approximately 45 percent of the crew is still confined to quarters but a large number of human life-signs are concentrated in the mess hall, along with one Talaxian and a holograph signature matching that of the doctor's.”

“They are following emergency procedure, setting up triage.” Tom rose to his feet. “ I should be getting down there to help. I can take Harry with me.”

“It's a damn mess but I will have communications back online in a couple of hours, and replacement com-badges are being replicated as we speak” B'Elanna spoke up from her own console, her brow creases in concentration.

Chakotay nodded his understanding, quickly going over what he now knew. They had successfully taken the bridge and that was the only advantage they had, they needed to keep it secure. That meant sacrificing both men and weapons to protect it. But the people in the mess hall needed protection too. It wasn't a difficult decision after all.

“Tuvok, you go with Tom and Harry. Leave us one plasma rifle and a couple of phasers  
and take the rest with you. Arm those that are able and keep the mess-hall secure. I will send reinforcements as soon as I can.”

He didn't say that 'as soon as I can' might be a very long time. That Tuvok, Tom, an injured Harry and a handful of simple phasers might be all that stood between the hirogen and a veritable feast. 

“Yes Sir” Tuvok complied instantly, gathering up all weapons available as he nodded towards Tom, indicating that he was ready to go at once. Spirits bless vulcan efficiency. 

Chakotay was just about to ask Seven for a scan of the corridor outside before he unlocked the turbo lift when a loud clang and shuffling to his right made him turn around swiftly, weapons drawn.

The others instantly followed suit, aiming their weapons at the small hatch which they themselves had crawled through not long ago. Whatever was coming, it was moving fast, not caring if it was heard.

“Identify yourself!” Chakotay barked at the same time as a dark clad figure came tumbling out of the opening, landing with a thud at their feet.

*

'Come on. Come on'. Kathryn repeated the words in her head like a mantra as she traced the elaborate circuitry with the small metal clip, holding her breath to feel the tiny jolt indicting that she had found the right circuit.

So far she had no luck and her hand was shaking clutching the clip, making it difficult to navigate. Another minute or so and then she had to try and slide the panel back again and hide.

She had lost track of how long she had been doing this tiresome dance, darting in and out of her hiding place, trying to make her uncooperative fingers do her bidding. It seemed like hours since she had sent Ayala on his way and she wondered if he had made it. Or perhaps he had just been a figment of her imagination. Was there actually anything at all outside this bubble that seemed to consist of only her, this hallway, and the heavy footsteps of the same, faceless hirogen?

She knew it was the fever and exhaustion taking. Her stomach was empty, going by the painful clenching of her digestive system it had been days since she last ate and her mouth was dry as sandpaper. If she sat still long enough it was apparent that her entire body was trembling, both from pain, raising fever and sheer fatigue. It would be all too easy to give into it.

She had to fight that small, tired voice in her head, at least for a little while longer.  
Focusing on the task at hand, keeping a clear head and a tight rein on your emotions was the difference between living to fight another day or dying in fear that you might have to.

Besides, if she died Chakotay would kill her. And so would Tuvok. That sobering thought made her grin despite herself. She was sure both men where equally furious at her by now, even though Tuvok would never admit to such basic emotions. 

Taking a break Kathryn rolled her shoulders and shifted slightly on the floor, drying her sweaty fingers on her pants which where now stiff with cakes of dried blood.

'One more try' she decided, flexing her fingers as she began to trace the circuit card again. Left. Right. Up. And back again. Left. Right. Up. And back again. Left. Right. Where was she?

When her hand tingled with a small jolt she could hardly believe it, holding back the cry of triumph that nearly crossed her lips. With unsteady hands she completed the circuit and smiled to herself at the bright computer beep that followed. Yes!

Her elation was short lived. Footsteps could once more be heard and Kathryn grabbed for the panel, sliding it into place.

*

“Mike?!”Chakotay lowered his rifle, staring dumbfounded at the man sprawled on the floor before him. He looked a mess, his face smudged with grease, his uniform dirty and thorn. He was breathing fast from exertion, clutching his right arm tightly as he stared up at the group with wide eyes. It seemed like a dimwitted question given their circumstances and yet it slipped past Chakotay's lips before he could stop himself. “What the hell happened to you?”

“Sorry Boss. The front door was locked.” Mike deadpanned breathlessly, seemingly unmoved by the blunt question as well as their strange appearances as he accepted the hand Tom offered to hurl him to his feet. “I have orders from the Captain.”

“That's the best news I have heard today, let's hear it.” The lightness Chakotay felt made the last few hour's struggle seem infinitely easier, but one look at Ayala's face made him pause, his smile fading. He raised a brow at his friend, urging him to speak his mind despite his apparent discomfort and Ayala took a step closer, lowering his voice. 

“I think she's in trouble boss.”   
  
Chakotay's stomach knotted instantly, the unease he had felt ever since he had seen Kathryn on the holodeck finding his center. There wasn't a doubt in Chakotay's mind that Mike was right, given the life Mike Ayala had lived in the Marquis the man could spot trouble a mile away. 

“Go on.” 

“She's hurt, gunshot wound it seems. It didn't look right. But you know the Captain. She just wants these assholes off the ship, sooner rather than later.”

Mike paused, considering how to phrase the gut feeling that his Captain was circling the drain and was well aware of it.

“If we don't get her out...”

“What's her plan?” Chakotay interrupted in a tight voice, walking over to Seven's console to stare at the map outlining the interior of the ship, wondering what it was he was missing in all this. What the hell was she doing roaming the ship, injured, unarmed?

“She is on deck six....”

“The armory.” Chakotay concluded before Mike had a chance to finish, the penny finally dropping. He should have known. It was just the type of thing Kathryn Janeway would go for. Ingenious, bold and quite possibly lethal. Damn that brilliant, stubborn head of hers.

“The Captain thought she might be able to override the locking mechanism.”

“A great tactical advantage, if successful....” Tuvok stated, joining Chakotay by the console, his eyebrows raised in what could pass as mere interest at this unexpected development but Chakotay had learned to read the vulcan better than that. “...but not without considerable risk. It is no doubt well guarded. “

“There was one hirogen patrolling the deck but I got the impression there were more in the vicinity. We heard phaser fire.” Ayala stated, walking over to point out the small maintenance tunnel where he had left his Captain. ”Her orders were to free those crewmen still locked in their quarters and arm them Commander.”

“Can you get anything on sensors Seven?” 

“I'm afraid not Commander. When the hologrid overloaded it took out all sensors in that section.” Seven stated. “At this moment I have no way of reading the Captain's vital signs in that location.”

Chakotay ran a hand through his hair, staring at the console before them as the thoughts raced in his head. Damn it to hell, Kathryn! Would she ever come up with a solution to looming disaster that did not involve getting herself killed in the process? 

But she was the Captain and her orders to him were clear. If she had managed to take the armory she might just have saved them all, and they should move swiftly to utilize that advantage, before the hirogen got wise of the situation.   
Still, if he had even the slightest chance...

If they went in there guns blazing the jig would be up and they would find themselves in full battle once more. He knew damn well what that was like. Complete chaos.

They were short of everything. People. Weapons. Time. 

“If Paris pulls my shoulder right I am good to go Commander. Just tell me where you need me” Ayala stated, having known Chakotay long enough to know what must be running through his head. 

“That goes for me as well.... I can help too.” Harry stood up straight, ignoring they way the room spun for a moment as he found his feet, hoping nobody had noticed. He wasn't about to rest his head on a makeshift biobed in the mess hall when the rest of them fought to take back their ship.“Tom can patch me up for now.”

Regarding the group before him Chakotay wrinkled his forehead, trying to sift through the clutter of bad options and certain disasters to find a clear path. There had to be one, simply because his mind refused to accept anything else. Perhaps something of Kathryn Janeway' s hell bent determination had rubbed of on him after all these years. It was a encouraging thought and as simple as that, he knew which hand he wanted to play.

“Seven, B'Elanna, you hold the bridge. I want communications up and I want you to establish a link to our temporary sickbay. Keep working on sensors, make out any patterns you can of the hirogen's movements. Try to locate the Alpha.” Chakotay paused staring at the two women. He would have liked nothing better than to take advantage of their excellent fighting skills, spirits knew he could use them, but they where the best engineers he had and the two people aside from Kathryn with enough knowledge to keep this ship running on their own. 

Next Chakotay turned his attention to Tom and Harry, both looking at him expectantly.

“You two will get down to the mess hall just as I ordered, but you will have to hold the fort on your own until I can send reinforcements. Take weapons and arm those well enough.” Chakotay gave Harry a stern look. “And let the doctor fix you up before anything else. You will be no help to anybody bleeding out on your post.”

Both men nodded their understanding and Chakotay motioned Tuvok and Ayala towards him.

“You two will search the upper decks, floor by floor and clear them. Start to let people out of their quarters. Send those that are injured down to the mess hall through these corridors here.” Chakotay pointed on the map before them. “Take those with most experience in security detail and form three teams. Once I have confirmed that we have the armory- and you will hold of until I have, I won't send anybody in there as mere canon fodder- you will take the teams down to the armory and get them properly equipped. Dispatch them as follows; one team to keep the upper decks clear , one team to guard the messhall and one team to the bridge awaiting new orders. Is this clear?”

“Yes sir!” Ayala stood at attention while Tuvok raised a brow, looking at his commanding officer speculatively. He knew that Chakotay was not yet done.

“If you get communications back up and don't hear from me, assume you are on your own. That leaves you in command Tuvok. You proceed as you see fit.” 

He was more or less telling Tuvok to consider himself and the Captain lost unless told otherwise, a statement that seemed to suck the air from the room and Chakotay wondered just how much of a fight Tuvok would be willing put up against the obvious breach of protocol, but Tuvok simply nodded, replying with a somber “Aye Aye Commander.”

Chakotay shouldered his rifle, ready to leave, when a sudden notion he couldn't quite explain made him pause, it's sentiment not much like him at all. If he would have bared thinking the thought through he might have believed it was his Captain's voice speaking to him from the other side. Never the less he adhered to it, addressing those under him once more. 

“But before we do anything else, replicate new uniforms and change out of these damn, ridicules costumes. We are a starfleet crew in battle, not playing dress-up to amuse the master race.”

*

The marching footsteps almost upon her Kathryn slid into the cramped tunnel, her before so tired body easily obeying her, carried by the wave of adrenaline infused triumph surging through her. They had weapons again, a chance to turn the tables, an opportunity to show those vile creatures what starfleets finest were really made of.  
  
Sliding the hatch shut behind her she breathed a sigh of relief that caught in her throat just as the hatch closed, her eyes for a mere second falling on the panel she had just so carefully put back into place.  
Two smeared patches of stark red shone bright like a beacon against the starfleet gray of the wall and Kathryn looked down on her hands in horror, realizing her mistake.

She had dried her hands on her pants. She had put those hands against the wall getting up. How could she have been so stupid, so careless? There was nothing she could do, no way to undo what had already been done.

Was its just her imagination or could she hear the footsteps outside slowing? The thud of a rifle being placed on the deck? The swoosh of a knife pulled from it's sheath? Perhaps it was just the blood rushing in her ears.

She felt as though the ridged faced hirogen could see right through the duranium wall, his nostrils flaring at the sent of blood he had just detected. 

Damn.

She had always been willing to risk it all to set right what she caused when stranding them all out here. It was only in the harsh, unforgiving light of it's certainty that she realized what her death would cost her.

So many things that would be lost to her.

The joy of watching Naomi grow up, coming into her own. The triumph of seeing Seven make a real life for herself on the ship. The pride of seeing how far Tom could go. The thrill of looking into Chakotay's eyes and feeling that familiar pull, hoping for the day when she could give in to it.

Now that day would never come, none of it would be hers to experience. 

The hatch opened with a dull clang and her heart leaped in her throat, fluttering wildly as she came face to face with the dark, reptile like eyes of a hunter ready for the slaughter, his long ritual knife in his hand. 

How strange it was that this was how it would end. It could have been a Kazoon Mage killing her to advance his tribe. It could have been a Vidiian doctor sacrificing her to give his people more time. It could have been a reprogrammed Cardassian missile blasting her to pieces because drawing it's fire could save millions. 

But it wasn't. 

It was a hirogen hunter waiting to skin her alive. For sheer pleasure. The thought fueled her with merciful anger, overshadowing anything else.

Kathryn squared her shoulders, staring right at the soulless, inhuman face and vowed that he would not read fear in her eyes, only contempt.

“Be a worthy pray and run.” 

Kathryn shock her head at the gravel voice. She had heard this demand before today, and this time she would not budge.

She knew their twisted belief system well enough, knew that a kill wouldn't be worthy any praise or admiration without a descent fight. Her body would not earn this hunter any women. She would hold her stand, like a Starfleet Captain. 

“No.” 

The evil spark in charcoal black eyes told her that her reply had just earned her a death more painful than was absolutely necessary but as the hirogen raised his blade she found herself indifferent to what that might mean. The end result, she told herself, would be the same.

A calculated, well practiced lunge forward and Kathryn prepared herself for the blade to sink into her, holding her breath for the burning pain shredding her insides but it never came. 

She supposed it was shock rather than her fever-haze that made it hard for her to decipher what had just happened.

It wasn't until he spoke her name, soft but lined with so much worry, that she connect the sight of her first officer, the rifle in his hand and the lifeless, limp hunter at her feet, still clutching the knife.

*

She was ashen, eyes wide in disbelief, lips moving to form his name without making a sound and he stepped over the lifeless body at their feet, his free hand curling around her upper arm. For a moment it felt as if he was all that was keeping her upright, her small frame leaning heavily against his arm.

“Kathryn?”

“I did it. I restored the codes back to our own.” 

Kathryn wet her dry lips, a weak, disbelieving smile forming on her lips as she slowly pushed herself upright and away from him.“We have to hide him. If they see him lying here they will check the armory. We won’t get past them twice, this is our only chance.” 

She was taking fast, with great effort bending at the waist to pull at the dead weight at their feet. 

Shock he realized as his worried eyes took her in, cataloging the damage. And spirits knew what else. His head was still reeling from the encounter and realization that had he found her just a few moments later it would have been too late but that was something neither of them could afford to think about right now.

“I've got him.” Chakotay reassured her gently as he bent next to her, briefly placing a hand over hers to still her movements. “Communications are still down, but we will let the bridge know, if nothing else the second we get back up there. You sweep the hall and make sure we leave no trace.” 

He half expected her to argue but she simply nodded and went to work, not sparing the dead hirogen a second glance.

*

“If I never see the inside of a jefferies tube again it will be too soon.” Chakotay groaned -gracefully considering his size - shuffling around to try and find a comfortable position to rest in the narrow tunnel, leaning his head back against the wall as he wiped the sweat of his brow.

They were running out of time, in more ways than one. The fact that they should have heard from B'Elanna by now loomed like a ominous cloud of dread over their heads. Something must have gone wrong with getting communications back online.

Watching Kathryn as she breathed deeply and slumped against the wall in relief at the moments respite he wondered how much more she could take, and how much longer it would be before she ordered him to go on without her. 

The trek up from deck six had been slow and agonizing. She was trembling all over with the effort, her black pants torn to pieces from dragging her leg after her on the grid when it would no longer obey her.  
  
“What do you have against Jefferies tubes? You were never one to meet a pretty girl or two in there in your younger years Commander?” Kathryn teased in a raspy voice, making a terrible job of hiding her grasp of pain with a chuckle as she prodded her oozing wound, raw and tired fingers trying and failing miserably at tightening the tourniquet that had slipped lose during their shuffle through the tubes.

God bless him he played along without question, not even flinching as he wordlessly took over and reached down to tightened the belt for her, despite knowing the agony it would cause.

“Oh, on the contrary. I remember quite a few pleasant hours hiding out in Jefferies tubes as a cadet. Somehow this doesn't inspire the same emotions.” His words almost drowned out the bajoran curse slipping past her lips as the belt dug into her infected flesh.

“I should probably be offended by that. Are you saying I don't meet your standards Chakotay?” Her voice was breathless and raw and her eyes lacking it's usual sparkle when making such an innuendo but he couldn't help but laugh none the less, grateful that she still had the energy to make the effort.

“No no, that combination of dried blood, grease, sweat and hirogen bodily-fluids is really working for you.”

“Yeah I think so too” Kathryn nodded solemnly in agreement, closing her eyes for a moment as the pain slowly receded, giving herself a moment to contemplate the impossibility of their current situation. There was a conversation needed to be had and, uncharacteristically, she was not sure how to go about it. 

Precious seconds ticked by in silence.

“Are you mad at me?”

Chakotay raised a brow, studying her pale, drawn face for a moment. He could take the question at face value; was he mad that she had run of on her own to save the world again? But she knew the answer to that one. He was always mad and he always forgave her. No, given the hint of uncharacteristic uncertainty and regret in her eyes as she looked up at him this was something else entirely.

“I can be mad later, right now we need to get moving” Chakotay deflected her question, starting to get up on his knees again. With every fiber of his being he refused to believe that now was the time for this particular conversation. Which was ironic, considering all the times he had tried to broach the subject.

“Chakotay...” Now that the moment had presented itself she didn't want to let him go before knowing, didn't want to order him on his way to save this ship of theirs with this still laying between them.  
Was he mad for how they had ended up? For how cruelly she had refused them what they had found in each other on new earth? 

He must know how much it had hurt to make that call, how much she had regretted it. Oh she had regretted it, and selfishly she had fallen once more, let them both fall, one night on the holodeck as if too much champagne and cheating death had magically changed things. Of course it hadn't. And she had punished them both thoroughly for the indiscretion. But not once had she allowed them to talk about it.

It was after that he had fallen for Riley Frazier. They had never spoken about that either, beyond their brief conversation in sickbay that she had kept strictly professional, glossing over his apparent remorse with superior platitudes. And then there had been species 8472 and so, so many other things...

She had her chances, many of them. Her letter from Mark being one. If there had ever been a perfect time to broach the subject of the two of them that had been it. But as Chakotay had concluded, so chivalrously making sure he wasn't pressuring her, there was still plenty of time. It seemed that they had both been wrong on that one. 

Biting her lip Kathryn ignored the fire racing up her leg and shuffled a little closer to Chakotay, who was still adamantly refusing to look at her, hunched over on his knees and checking his plasma rifle as if he was actually expecting her to ahead to his suggesting to get moving again.

She would have none of it. Chances were that she would never see the end of this Jeffreys tube. She was going to make damn sure that he would, but not before he answered her question.

Reaching out, her hand was just about to close around his on the rifle to end their stalemate when Chakotay's communicator sparked, B'Elanna's voice filling the cramped space.

“Lieutenant Torres to Commander Chakotay.”

Chakotay instantly tapped his communicator, lifting his head to meet Kathryn's surprised stare. 

“Chakotay here. I was starting to think we wouldn't hear from you.” 

“I'm sorry Commander, we had our hands full there for a moment. But we have communications and internal sensors back online.” 

“Well done B'Elanna. Let Tuvok know we have the armory and start sending our people in. I will get the Captain to the mess hall for treatment before joining you on the bridge.”

“Yes sir. Seven has your comm-badge on sensors now. If you care to get out of there, and I imagine you do, the hallway intersecting you to the left about 90 feet ahead has been cleared. From there you can take the turbo lift straight to the mess hall.”

“Thank you, I will see you on the bridge. Chakotay out.”

For a moment they remained silent, looking at each other in slight disbelief before Chakotay gave her a rueful smile.“It seems we were just given directions out of here.”

Shaking her head at the fact that once again, however unlikely, the universe had seen fit go grant them one more hail Mary pass Kathryn painstakingly maneuvered herself into a crawling position, starting to shuffle along ahead Chakotay once more. “Well thank God for Klingon stubbornness and Borg efficiency.”

*

Twenty minutes later they had made it through the ghostly deserted corridor on deck three, Chakotay half carrying, half dragging his Captain with him with an arm around her waist. 

Tuvok had reported in, confirming that his detail had reached the armory and it's valuable contents was now being distributed throughout the ship. So far, all this right under the hirogen's noses. It seemed almost too good to be true.

Once inside the turbolift Kathryn allowed herself to rest her weight against Chakotay's side, taking deep, heavy breaths as the lift carried them upwards. As soon as the doors slid open they would step right into the lobby outside the mess hall and she simply could not have the crew seeing their Captain slumping to her knees right in front off them. It would put a very bad note on the fight ahead.

“Ready?” Chakotay asked as the lift slowed and Kathryn nodded, reaching a hand up to draw her fingers through her tangled hair, hands moving to straighten the nonexistent pips at her collar before she remembered she was still in costume.

Mindful to let her find her center Chakotay straightened and moved away to let Kathryn stand on her own two feet as the doors slid open, revealing Harry Kim standing on guard, weapons raised, just outside. 

Stepping out of the lift Kathryn was grateful for Chakotay's hand resting on her lower back for just a moment longer, supporting her as she swayed slightly. Head held high she found her voice, somehow managing to scold it into it's usual pitch.

“Report Ensign!” 

*

Later she hadn't been able to understand what inner reserves of energy she had drawn on that had allowed her to remain on her feet long enough to hear what Ensign Kim had to say and issue the appropriate orders but as soon as the doctor had caught sight of her she had swiftly been urged onto a temporary medical cot in the gallery.

There the doctor had swept his ever present medical tricorder over her, muttering and sighing under his breath in between barking orders at Tom Paris who swiftly filled several hypo sprays. 

Apparently besides the very obvious gunshot wound and blood loss the subsequent infection had caused septicemia, her organs shutting down one by one. In other words; she had been more or less circling the drain, something the doctor had made short order of informing her off when she came of her sedatives, eager to get back to the bridge.

She had lost almost an entire day with the doctor working on her, and although she had felt her head spinning just trying to sit up she had left against medical advice the first chance she got.  
The fact that Chakotay had been sedated at the time treating a stab wound a little too close to having punctured his left lung after an altercation with a now dead Alpha on deck five, had made her escape a tad easier. There was no one brave enough, or suicidal enough depending on how you looked at it, to back the doctor up on his threat to tie her to her cot.

For more than a week the fighting had moved from one stalemate to another, grinding them all down bit by bit as they all tried their best to muddle through the constant stream of red alerts.   
The day that she had gotten the hirogen Alpha to accept her offer of a symbolic trophy was the first time she had slept a whole night, knowing their ships were no longer following in Voyager's wake.   
Looking at it logically - as Seven had pointed out - they had gotten away from the altercation with minimum losses and the respect of a race that was feared throughout the quadrant. Kathryn knew reality wasn't as simple as all that. 

So many of her crew had been put through countless, unimaginable horrors in the hands of the hirogen and whether they could remember it or not the experience had changed them in some way. Some claimed that now and then a thought or emotion popped into their head, a memory that didn't seem to belong to them. And yet it did.  
  
She herself struggled, much more than she cared to admit, to accept what their latest battle had brought her.  
That, in fact, was the very reason she had found herself back on the holodeck again tonight, in the darkened bar of the Le Coeur de Lion, pondering what do to with the persistent unease twisting and turning inside of her.

It was the third night in a row now; sitting perched alone at the bar with a glass of very dry, very tannic and very none syntheholic Cabernet Sauvignon in front of her, dressed in a silky, mint green version of one of the dressed she had worn in the simulation and listening to scratchy wartime radio recording of Ella Fitzgerald and Frank Sinatra. 

She was sure a whole lot could be said about that questionable choice, given that the rest of the crew understandably seemed reluctant to spend their leisure time on the holodeck these days, never mind actually revisiting some of the places where they had been forced to fight for their lives, but strange as it was she found herself more at peace here than in her own quarters. She liked the smell of the place, cigar smoke and cheap wood polish rather than static space dust and the dress felt silky and smooth against her skin; luxurious, decadent and distinctly feminine compared to the uniform she seemed to live in.

She supposed this was what the holodeck had been designed for in the first place, to lend an escape when needed. It was in fact, very much the equivalent of childlike make belief, at least for a moment pretending she belonged anywhere else than on a starship lost to the rest of the known universe. 

Oh she knew very well that she wasn't Kathrine, the equally cunning and dazzling social butterfly charming the pants of the enemy every night at her bar but there were parts of the woman she could recognize as once belonging to herself and it made her wonder just which bits and pieces of her the holoprogram had played of off when creating the character. Which parts she herself had abandoned in the years out here. 

She had certainly been able to see traces of her first officer in Captain Miller, instantly following her her, trusting her despite the fact that half the things she was telling him sounded, as Tom Paris would have put it, bat shit crazy. A gentleman, but not so much of a gentleman that his interest in her as a woman was ever in doubt. Where would his and Kathrine's story had ended up?

Strange ponderings considering the fact that the entire point of the simulation was to kill each and every one of them.

“Chakotay to the Captain.”

Her communicator instantly brought reality flooding back into the room and with it an acute sense of embarrassment for sitting there and comparing her own lack of personal achievements with that of a string of holographic computer codes and she quickly found herself, her voice all Captain as she slapped her comm-badge.

“Janeway here, what can I do for you Commander?”

“I have some reports for you to sign, and a request from Neelix, regarding...” he paused as if making sure he was reading the pad right ”... flammable pudding. Apparently you said no the last time he wanted to put it on the menu and he is asking you to reconsider.”

Routine businesses, none of it needing her attention tonight of course. He was checking up on her. Again. 

Not that she could blame him. She had been making the most of the 'busy Captain, polite but distant' run around routine ever since the hirogen had stepped of the ship. It wasn't fair to him, and she could only expect it to deter him for so long but their near conversation in the Jeffreys tube still made her cringe.

She should be grateful that the things she had felt so compelled to get of her chest had never been spoken, that he had been blessed with the good sense to steer them both away from that train wreck but that was a small comfort. Her question still hung in the air between them whenever she meet Chakotay's eyes across the center console.

“Captain?” her lack of response prompted him to question and she shook her head, fingers tracing the glass of wine in front of her.

“That is quite alright Commander. I will deal with those in the morning.”

“Very well Captain I will leave them on your desk. Enjoy your evening.” 

He was gracious about it, as always, but the sting of rejection was still there underneath the soft spoken words. She really was cruel sometimes. One of these days he would stop trying and the only time her communicator would chirp in her off hours where when the klaxon would soon start blaring. The premonition sent a cold chill up her spine.

“I'm on the holodeck Chakotay. Come have a glass of wine with me.”

There was a moment of silence, as if he didn't quite know how to respond to such an unexpected invitation but then his warm, baritone was back and she could hear the smile in his voice.

“I'll be there in just a minute. Chakotay out.”

  
*

  
“Well I feel under-dressed.” his words held teasing but also genuine surprise and wonder as the holodeck doors closed behind him and he took in the softly lit room he had just stepped into, raising his brow at the vision perched, legs crossed, on a high barstool in front of him. 

He had expected a drink at Sandrines, in uniform. Not her, like this. Framed by the luxurious decor with a glass of wine in her hand she looked out of time completely. Her usually so straight no-nonsense hair was swept up away from her face in a gentle curl, the dress he had never seen on her before showing of a glorious expanse of flawless leg that did a fine job of competing with the way the silky fabric clung to the curves a star fleet issued garment could never quite do justice. Shit.

And here he had been lecturing himself the entire way over here to not forget who she needed him to be right now. Take her invitation at face value, he had told himself, and let her hide behind her captain's mask for as long as she she needs to work this out in her head.   
She never did make it easy for him.

“That's alright” Kathryn retorted, suddenly self-conscious as she felt his eyes on her and ducked her head, busying herself with pouring him a glass of wine as he sat down next to her. “I know the barkeeper, she is not all that picky.”

“With the clientèle that has frequented this place recently that's an understatement.”

Chakotay accepted the wine, taking a slow sip as he contemplated this unexpected turn to his evening's plans. He knew Kathryn Janeway, well enough to not be completely gutted by the cold shoulder that always followed a slip in her armor. Not to say it didn't hurt, but he had known it was coming as soon as imminent death was no longer looming over them. He didn't quite know what to make of this.

“Good wine thought.”

Kathryn nodded her agreement, taking a long sip and savoring the heaviness of it, letting it calm the voice inside of her wondered what the hell she she was doing inviting him here when she could barely get through alpha shift next to him. “Careful though, it's the real deal. No synthehol.”

“You mean to tell me that you stole this from Neelix's secret stash in the cupboard behind the sauce pans?” 

“I'll have you know that technically speaking this is my ship. I am the Captain and as such all materials...” Kathryn started indignantly but soon paused unable to fight the crocked smile spreading across her face as Chakotay's shoulders shook with suppressed laughter. “Yes, yes I did.”

“If he ever finds out you are in so much trouble.”

Kathryn raised her brow, as if challenging Neelix in his absence to do his worst and Chakotay had to look away, not wanting to be caught staring again. “I guess I will just have to appease him by allowing him to make those damn flammable cinnamon buns won't I?”

“Oh that will perk Tuvok right up.”

She laughed at that, soft but filled with genuine mirth, shaking her head slightly at his ability to read her, to so effortlessly carry them across this minefield she had placed them right in the middle of. Bless the man.

“You don't have to worry about me Chakotay. I am alright. This somewhat strange choice of setting aside...” Kathryn made a sweeping hand gesture as she looked up at him, holding his gaze to reassure him that she wasn't just brushing him of again. “I will be fine.”

“Just making sure.” Chakotay said in a gentle, steady tone, giving her a sidewards glance as he dared prodding a little further. “Almost getting yourself killed does things to you, even to a fearless starship captain. ”

Oh he had it all wrong. He and every other person on this crew that kept hailing her a hero for her bravery. But then again perhaps not. Perhaps he knew exactly what it was that bothered her, even though she had just barely begun to understand it herself. Perhaps he was just goading her because before she knew it the words slipped past her lips before she had a chance to stop herself, grim and lined with contempt.

“I had no problem playing their killing game. It's the living game I keep failing at.”

Damn it to hell. Had the wine completely evaporated her inner filter? Her words, she was sure, landed like a bombshell of self-accusation, implications and remorse in the silence between them and she cringed inwardly, hesitantly glancing at him to survey the damage. But Chakotay simply nodded his head in understanding, as if what she had just said was as plain as day, his eyes holding a glimmer of compassion she wasn't ready to take in. Then, to her utter surprise, he rose to his feet holding out a hand to her.

“Dance with me.”

He was half certain she would refuse him, ask him to get the hell out. He was trespassing way beyond the familiar safe path she always steered them along, despite his best intentions when walking in here tonight. But she had opened the door just a little and Chakotay couldn't help himself.   
He could see the multitude of emotions flickering across her face. Astonishment. Warning. Curiosity. Longing.

*

Kathryn could hardly believed what he had just asked her. How long had it been since he had made such an overture? Since she had let him? She shouldn't, of course she shouldn't but oh how she wanted to. Dancing with him had always been a guilty daydream of hers, along with so many others that had all remained unfulfilled. 

In the background Frank Sinatra's 'Moonlight becomes you' stroked up for the third time this evening and Kathryn couldn't help smiling. She had listened to Seven ranting about that very song this morning- as much as an ex-Borg could be accused of ranting- for a good twenty minutes. It had been one of the few things sticking with Seven's neuropathways after her time as lounge singer slash resistance fighter but she couldn't seem to get that“over sentimental and grammatically incorrect nonsense of a song ” out of head even when regenerating. Kathryn herself, had found that she quite like it.

What harm would it do?

Raising a cautioning brow at him, as if chiding them both for such an indulgence, she slid of her high chair to oblige him. One hand on his broad shoulder and the other hand clasped in his they found their slow rhythm, his arm winding around her waist lightly. Not too close to be perfectly respectable but close enough that she could feel his solid, warm frame guiding her across the floor.

_You're all dressed up to go dreaming_  
_Now don't tell me I'm wrong_  
_And what a night to go dreaming_  
_Mind if I tag along_

Chakotay's mouth turned upward at the easiness of it, how light and effortlessly they flowed across the floor. Like they had never done anything else. He had been in starfleet command training long enough to get a basic education as far as classic ballroom dancing was concerned. It was after all a requirement to attend at least one fund raiser a year. But he wasn't a natural. The woman in his arms on the other hand, was.

He simply had to. With greater flourish than he rememberer himself capable of Chakotay spun them around, holding her just a little bit closer to keep her with him as they swirled around and Kathryn laughed at his theatrics, shaking her head at him, her voice full of amusement as she followed easily. “What exactly is you think you're doing Mr Astaire?” 

“Living.”

His words, however innocently meant hit her like a freight train, colliding solidly with the tiny piece of pure and simple happiness that fluttered in her chest. This was cruel to the both of them, much crueler than any hirogen hunting party could ever be.

She could feel him tensing, the realization that he had said entirely the wrong thing settling with resignation in the arms that held her, preparing to let her go but she fought against it, curling her fingers into the fabric of his uniform jacket. Turning her head into his shoulder she closed her eyes and breathed in the distantly familiar scent. Just one more moment of floating around in his arms like this. She could allow them that.

“Kathryn?” 

She remained silent, their bodies still swaying along with the music. She wanted to put to memory everything about this. The way his hands felt warm and strong spread across her lower back. The way she fit so perfectly against him. The way she wanted more. So much more than she would ever be allowed to have.

“Nothing has changed Chakotay...” she finally spoke, a low, raspy whisper against his uniform jacket and his arm tightened around her in response. “What I believed last year, last month, yesterday... I still believe.”

“I know” he assured softly close to her ear, feeling his heart constrict painfully at the quiet despair in her voice, perfectly matching his own. “I understand, I always have. And you are right.”

He waited a beat, giving himself a moment before voicing what he had always, up until then, kept to himself in the dark, brooding hours of early morning. “But you are also wrong.”

She reacted just like he knew she would, body tensing away from him as she snapped to attention, tilting her head to look up at him, her eyes filled with caution and dread. 

They were no longer dancing, simply standing still, her back ramrod straight in his embrace.

“I know neither of us can have everything we want out here, nobody can. And there is nothing we can do to change that. But that doesn't mean we should be expected to stop living altogether either.”

Her brow furrowed in exasperation, opening her mouth to protest but he forged ahead, his voice low but insistent, his eyes holding hers with an intensity that made her pause.

“I don't have any demands or expectations, I would never ask you for anything that isn't yours to give. But this is the only life we have out here, the only one we are going to get. We are allowed to have something Kathryn, something that belongs to us and has nothing to do with keeping this ship running and our people alive.”

He had never spoken to her like this before, never made his own feeling so clear, at least not since new earth. Whatever parameters she had laid down, whatever she had demanded he had always bared. She wanted to believe what he was saying, but she knew better. This wasn't who he was, not deep down. Chakotay wasn't a man who could love just a little, have his heart broken just a little.

“You don't believe that.” She breathed, pressing past the tightness in her chest and ignoring the way her body so willingly responded to what he was offering, holding close to him instead of taking the step back she knew she should.“It wouldn't be enough.”

Chakotay's voice was tight with emotion, fear of rejection mingling with the building realization that her small form still pressed close to him despite her words, warmth radiating between them. Spirits he had missed her.

“Whatever we can have... It will be enough, because it has to be.”

Taking a deep breath he spoke the last truth, the one that always had and always would follow him. No matter how cruelly she fought against the love that had grown between them despite their best intentions. No matter how many hours he spent in the boxing ring late at night pouring out his frustration. No matter if the world ended tomorrow. 

“I want you Kathryn.”

The sensible, levelheaded voice in her head was telling her to hold firm, her mouth forming the words. No. No. No. Every fiber of her being ached to have him, in what ever little way she could.

“I want you too.”

The words had barely past her lips before she wound her arms around his neck, standing up on tiptoes in her high heeled shoes to press herself against him and they met in a hard, open mouthed kiss. It was dizzying in it's intensity, neither caring enough to break away for air as she clung to him, greedily sucking on his lower lip.

Hands roaming freely Chakotay let his drag up her sides, raising goosebumps wherever he went as Kathryn made fast work of ridding him of his uniform jacket, hands traveling the expanse of his broad chest and arms. 

They ought to reel themselves in just a little, savor this unexpected moment but all she knew as she dragged her hands over his taunt muscles was want, unstoppable, all consuming want.

“Computer engage privacy lock Janeway Lambda Five Eight Zero.” 

Tomorrow she would think about what all this might mean, how many ways it could break them.   
Right now all she could do was loose herself in the feeling, whimpering her raising need into Chakotay's mouth as his hand found her erect nipple through slippery, silky fabric, pinching roughly.

She arched her chest into his hands encouragingly, urging him to slip his finger's beneath the fabric of her dress to find her bare skin underneath the thin lace of her bra. He knew just what she craved, rolling the aching hard nipple between his fingertips sharply as he pushed one leg in between hers.

It fueled the already pulsing throb between her legs, her hips grinding against him desperately in need for more and Chakotay groaned is frustration, growing harder as he pressed into her stomach. 

“Chakotay” she rasped and he responded instantly, strong hands lifting her into the air and settling her on her barstool where he stepped in between her open thighs. Raising her legs around his hips he was suddenly right where she wanted him, perfectly aligned, the hard length of him pressing directly against her clit through the layers of fabric.

Kathryn shuddered, circling her hips against him and gasping at the jolts of pleasure rippling through her at the contact, his hips rocking against her in perfect counterpoint. God she had forgotten how good this was. She could come just like this, but Chakotay wouldn't have it. She could see the intent, the raw desire in his eyes and it sent her own desperate need spiraling even further, remembering what it was like to be so completely at his mercy and yet holding him in the palm of her hand all at the same time.

Mesmerized she watched Chakotay, her body trembling in anticipation as he settled his hands on her inner legs and slowly inched his way underneath her dress and upward along her stocking clad thighs.  
She bit her lip, noting with lust filled satisfaction the way his eyes widened and a low growl escaped his lips as he reached the top of her lace lined thigh highs, dress bunched around his wrists.

“Spirits, you will be the death of me.”

Chakotay pressed the words out through tight lips as his hands traveled even further, encountering smooth, alabaster skin.   
The inside of her thigh was silky and inviting, skin quivering beneath his fingertips as he dragged them along the hem of her underwear teasingly. He could smell her, the black lace of her panties already soaked as his fingers pressed briefly against her.

“Chakotay” she begged him hoarsely, bucking into his hand and groaning in frustration as he moved out of reach only to hiss seconds later as two nimble fingers slipped inside her underwear and pressed against her slick opening, his thumb finding her clit.

“I want to taste you.”

One finger pushed inside of her, pumping lightly in response to her quiet whimper and she shock her head vigorously, grinding into his hand.

“Later...” she panted. “I want you inside me. Now.”

There was an almost captain like streak of authority in her voice. One that, combined with the fact that he had his finger buried inside of her, legs spread wide around him in those damn tight high stockings, might make this most erotic thing he had ever experienced.

Making fast work of unclasping his pants and letting them slide to the floor along with his regulation boxers he pulled the flimsy fabric of her underwear aside and did was he was told.

Mouth open in a silent gasp Kathryn threw her head back and arched against him as he buried himself inside of her to the hilt, arms holding on tightly to his shoulders for leverage as he pulled all the way out and then plunged into her again, setting a strong, deep rhythm.

The world narrowed down to nothing more than the sounds of their bodies slapping together, the pressure building with each stroke. She crossed her legs around his waist, heels digging into his back but caring very little as fingers rolled a nipple hard in response.

He wasn't sure how long he had it in him to keep going the way she clenched around him, urging him to take her harder, deeper.

She kept sliding back and forth on the polished, now slick, surface of the chair, her whimpers building in equal parts pleasure and frustration each time he slammed into her and she tried to raise her hips to meet him, finding little leverage. Just as desperate himself Chakotay let his hands slide around and down to cup her ass, anchoring her to him more tightly as he drove into her.

Kathryn hardly recognized the sounds emanating from her at the shift in angle, crushing her clit between them with each swirl of her hips, his hard cock hitting that perfect spot every time he drilled into her. 

She was close, so close, a thin sheen of sweat breaking out across her skin as they sped up their pace. The tightness of his thrusts told her he was on the brink as well, his hands clasping her ass roughly, strong fingers digging into her.

Suddenly that was all it took, the thought of him leaving hand shaped bruises all over her ass cheeks, stinging as she sat down in her command chair in the morning, and just like that she was coming, quivering and pulsing around him.

He wasn't far behind, groaning loudly as he plunged into her one last time, holding himself still as he came hard, feeling her clench around him in response.

*

Breath ragged and bodies trembling in cooling sweat neither had the strength to move just yet, staying locked in their embrace as they returned to themselves, once again registering their surroundings. The hard, unforgiving wood against her backside. The voice of Ella Fitzgerald heartfelt assuring she was 'Bewitched, bothered and bewildered'. The insistent stab in his lower back.

“That was...” Kathryn wet her dry lips, her still shaking legs sliding from around Chakotay's waist.

“..fun?” Chakotay suggested with a dimpled smile as he with great effort straightened up, bringing a hand to her waist to steady her.

“Amazing.” Kathryn corrected with a crocked, dazed smile, shaking her head at his cocky grin. Fucking on a barstool, at their age. Not even bothering to take their clothes off. Of course he was cocky. “But there is a fair chance I might not be able to walk tomorrow.”

“Me neither” Chakotay chuckled as he dragged a hand through his hair, knowing he was grinning from ear to ear but completely unable to suppress it. “You don't happen to know if this establishment has a bed do you, preferably a king size one?”

“Why do you ask?” Kathryn questioned with a raised brow, crossing her legs where she still sat perched on her high chair, ignoring the twinge between her legs as she did so. As if this was the time to play hard to get.

“Because you promised me 'later'” Chakotay leaned forward and spoke softly into her ear, smiling as her eyes winded at the suggestion, breath quickening. “And this time...I am going to take my time.”

God, how could she possible be aroused again? 

She remembered this Chakotay, the one who knew every inch of her and wasn't shy of taking her just the way he wanted, the way she wanted. The one that held her. That loved her. 

“Well then, lets find a bed.” 


End file.
